


Atomic Hearts

by Sakuraiai



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Castiel is a Tease, Clones, Divorce, F/F, F/M, Inventor Chuck, M/M, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Michael/Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-03-16 19:51:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13643280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sakuraiai/pseuds/Sakuraiai
Summary: (prompt by longkissgoodnightbatmanandtwofac)After Jimmy Novak died in a car accident, Charles Novak was devastated. He decided to create a clone of Jimmy, so Amelia would be happily reunited with her husband. He called his new clone Castiel.What he didn't expect was Amelia's sour reaction to him.And he definitely didn't expect Castiel to fall in love with Michael's bespoken and dispirited fiance, Dean Winchester.





	1. Prologue - The Crash and the Wake

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for the amazing prompt longkissgoodnightbatmanandtwofac, always coming up with such great ideas!
> 
> This is just the prologue.
> 
> Warning:  
> Car crash, implied death, spousal arguments, divorce.

The city lights were like fireflies zooming past, only pinpricks of light streaming cruelly before vanishing far into the background. They reflected gaily off the car windows as it fled down the deserted interstate, like lightning over the asphalt, moving fast. There was no moonlight, only the darkness itself overwhelmed the car. The tyres rumbled, slick against the road, smoothing the ride for the individuals inside.

Amenia Novak shook a few strands of her golden blonde hair from her dark eyes, narrowed and angry as she clutched onto her bag on her lap. Her husband Jimmy curled his fingers on the leather wheel, staring up at the red light, wanting to speed through the traffic. He stared at the clear road ahead of him, glad that he was in front of the long traffic line being made behind them. He gazed over to his wife, seeing her staring out of the window, over to his daughter, Claire, sitting in the back seat.

Once the lights turned green, he sped forward. He didn’t even bother to check his rear mirror, shifting mindlessly to a higher gear, changing lanes, struggling not to implode. They hadn’t been in town for long, but the fight had started nonetheless.

He tried to get most of his anger eat away with the speed he was going, hoping it too would be left behind, just like the road they were driving past.

Sitting in the back, accustomed to this sort of behaviour with her parents, was Claire, glad she was wearing a seatbelt, while her arm rose to the roof of the car, her fingers stretched over the material.

Glancing out over to the darkened forest that was the park zooming passed, Amelia shifted in her seat, trying to calm herself down. Swearing, Jimmy jerked the clutch up and over, angrily. He was getting a headache.

Closing his eyes, trying to block out the sheer anger welling up deep inside him, he jerked the clutch one higher, hoping it would take away the pain with the speed. The headlights swung around a corner wildly, engine roaring like a beast.

Amelia held onto the arm rest with a tense grip. “Slow down, Jimmy,”

But Jimmy didn’t listen.

“James,” Amelia tried quietly, she understood why he was angry. It was due time, she knew they were both thinking it, which was why she brought it up. She just hadn’t expected him to go into a rampage. “You’re going way too fast,”

“A divorce,” Jimmy said in a low, growling voice.

Amelia placed a hand on his arm, hoping it would help. “Slow down, James, you’re scaring Claire,”

But Jimmy didn’t listen, he didn’t even react to Amelia’s warnings. His fingers instead grasped the wheel tightly, knuckles turning white. They just had to get home, then he’d pack up his things and leave.

It was time. They weren’t working well together anymore. For years now. They had said they’d wait until Claire was old enough…and now that she was.

He hadn’t…he thought they were doing better. He thought this whole messy divorce, not loving one another business was dealt with. He thought…

“This is not my fault,” Amelia retorted, turning her attention to her husband. Her eyes were emblazoned with fury. “You knew this was coming, you just couldn’t hack it,”

“I couldn’t _hack it?”_ Jimmy screamed back, turning to glare at her. “I know we said we’d wait until Claire was old enough, but to spring it on me _now?_ What with Michael and his fiancé that hates him? Or what about the fact that Claire is _right here!_ ”

“We aren’t working out any more,” She replied, just as loud. “You were the one who agreed!”

“It’s our anniversary,” He growled, no longer caring as he sped up. “One more night… _just one more night…”_

Claire’s voice rang through the argument, her hands coming clear into their line of sight, pointing to the windshield. “Mum!”

For a split second, Jimmy saw the construction warning lights and signs swarming the edges of the concrete bridge. Then something exploded, sounds reverberated in his eardrums.

His body jerked forward, ribs crashing into the airbag.

 

~~ 

 

Long slim fingers tapped mercilessly against the computer keyboard, the sounds of the keys being hit echoed through the empty room, disrupting the eerie silence. The welcoming sunlight peered through the broken and boarded windows, illuminating the lone computer screen sitting idle.

He didn't think he'd ever come back here again.

Dust and debris took over most of the space, leaving only the sole computer intact, which was fortunate for him. He swept his sleeve over the keyboard, cleaning the keys to read the letters a little clearly on them before typing once again. His mind was clashing in inner turmoil.

He lifted his dark eyes up to look around, paranoid that someone – or _something_ – had followed him into the room. Guilt overrode his mind as he continued typing, looking around once again for any signs of survival. It was supposed to work, it _had_ worked.

_She would be happy again...he just needed to..._

The sound of someone crying in the distance broke his revere as he returned back to his typing. With a second sweep at the keyboard, he pushed his skewed glasses onto the bridge of his nose, the large collar of his thick, brown robe rolling down against the sweat on his skin. His breath deepened as he paused, taking a glance at the computer screen.

All was well, it seemed to be working fine. His creation was working, it was coming alive before him, as he had hoped. He was still slightly unsure of the overall analysis, he wished he had the chance to perfect it, but he didn’t have time. It wouldn't be exactly the same It would be dealt with when the time came. And he hoped it would all malfunction. 

After all no one should have what _he_  would have.

His dark curly hair was brushed aside as he continued typing, going through file after file of this expedited invention. Wondering why he had created such an invention in the first place. The computer started bleeping, thudding like a heart beating, the low dull sound resonating into his mind. He looked up to it, his eyes widened and his own heartbeat raced madly.

It was a good idea at the start with this revolutionary system update. After all, it was such a big discovery. He was the maker, the designer, the father. Everything to it. Yet such a fabrication of his work was shattered by one particle displacement.

Biogenetics fused together with renovating machinery, to create a power that surpasses all military, technology and brute force in the world.  _She would be happy._ And he was the ruler of this power, this essence that could very well one day wreak havoc on the city.

One day bring the harbinger of death to the world.

He hadn't built him for that. He hadn't... _she would be happy._

It wasn’t supposed to be like this…with him gone, what would they do?  _She_ had  _to be happy._

He let his head drop to the keyboard as he admitted defeat. What would his purpose be now? He watched on in fascination as his work was succeeding before his eyes, such a great day for a man of his work, yet still…

The sound of beeping echoed through the white sterile looking room, large in size as it held a gurney inside, a body was on the gurney, supporting machinery and an IV in his arms. The beeping increased, going faster and faster, deafening the man standing at the doorway.

A man, _a clone,_  lay on the bed, his skin paler than his predecessor, his eyes closed as a large needle hovered over him, supporting a silver liquid in a large vial, sinking into the skin of his arm.

"Rise, Castiel."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning.  
> Quick grieving process...

 

She shouldn't have done it.

She should have stayed quiet. If she had. Then maybe...maybe...

They were supposed to have a nice, last night out together with the family, before they went their separate ways. Celebrations were shared in the Novak household, they'd all go out to a restaurant or something, proud and happily enjoying the festivities. Her husbands –  _late husbands –_ family had been there, all of them, sitting and laughing gaily. Enjoying themselves.

No... well, that wasn't right at all.

The only happy one there was Gabriel, who was telling them all about the pretty tall man with the long hair and complicated eyes who came to his bakery a few days ago. The other two men were not happy at all. It didn't take a scientist, or a psychiatrist to see that there was nothing between them, no chemistry or love, nothing but duty. Amelia saw the abject strain in Michael Novak's dark eyes, as if he were keeping a secret he wanted to scream out to the world. He was sitting opposite her, knuckles white and grip tight on his cutlery. Next to him was Dean Winchester, Michael's fiancé – or soon to be fiancé – sitting there with the most dispirited look on his face. His smile was forced as he tried to laugh along with Gabriel's story.

They hated each other.  _She knew_ because she had heard Dean saying so to someone on the phone not a few days after he had arrived at the Novak House. Something about a debt to be paid, she wasn't sure. She hadn't been able to hear anything more, because Dean had heard her and had stopped talking. She had feigned nonchalance, it wasn't her life she was ruining here.

Everyone here was only together because of one man. One man who thought he knew what was right for his kids. 

Charles Novak had rose coloured glasses on when it came to his children. Back then, even she herself had put those glasses on when she had met Jimmy, she had loved him, cared for him, married him and had a child with him.She  _had_ loved him, all those years ago. But...for some reason, the love just wasn't there any more. It had been too fleeting, and soon they started arguing, small fights here and there. But then the strain got to them, and soon they were arguing about anything and everything.

She had thought with Claire on the way, they would get back to that loving couple they had been when they had first married. But no, it only worsened. They both loved Claire, with all of their hearts, and didn't want anything to happen to her. But she hadn't been able to keep them together.

It was just _too much._ They both deserved better.

So, she had made a pact, which he agreed to. They'd stay together until Claire was of age, and then they'd go their separate ways. Free to be whoever they wanted and do whatever they wanted.

But that anniversary dinner, that night...it had just gotten too much for her.

The patriarch Novak was a bastard. He didn't see what he was doing to his children. And she couldn’t take it. Her gaze had caught Dean's forlorn and crestfallen face. He was so handsome, yet he looked as if he had given up on his life. She growled. She wasn't going to have Charles ruin yet another human beings' life.

So, she told them...told them that she and Jimmy were going to get a divorce.

It was obvious how upset Charles was going to get. He wasn't happy, not at all. But the look on Michael's and Dean's face gave her confidence.  _She_ was fighting not only for herself, but for them.

What she didn't expect was the drive back home...the accident...

_Jimmy..._

They had spent days in the hospital. So much so that the sterile sickly scent had overpowered her senses, the hours met together in an never ending act of pure pain. She had been admitted for hours, and hours, sitting there while she recovered, fretting, worrying, unable to sleep, unable to eat.

Claire had been wearing a seat belt, so had she. But Jimmy hadn’t.

In her heart, she knew something had gone terribly wrong.

Claire came to her, a few nights after the accident. She had bruises and scratches over her face, which were healing. Her figure was shaky, trembling as she slowly made her way over to her mother. Amelia's eyes widened, seeing the utter frustration and regret on her face.

Jimmy hadn't made it.

She was devastated.

But...after a few months of solace, of grieving, of weeping and crying so hard that there wasn't a tear left in her, or any emotions at all. She had felt a little solace, in her daughter, in her in-laws. Gabriel had been by her side, grieving alongside her, for they had lost their brother too. Michael had been there for her, as had Dean, neither would leave her side.And soon, though it was the slowest thing possible, she had found herself able to wake in the morning, able to...to care again.

Sure, she had wanted a divorce with her hus— _late_ husband. But she had loved him, all those years ago. They had spent their entire lives together, they had created a beautiful young woman together.But...she was slowly getting better.

She hadn't expected it all to come crashing down.

Nearly a whole year had passed since the accident.

Charles... _Chuck_...had called them into the living room. Looking at him, she saw his sallow skin, dark bags under his eyes from all of those sleepless nights he had spent in his laboratory. But he had a smile on his face, happy about whatever it was he was about to show them.

Amelia sat down next to her daughter, alongside Dean. Gabriel settled onto the single seat on the side, while Michael chose to stand. Amelia noted the canyon like distance between Michael and Dean. She shook her head at that, knowing it was hopeless.They were still pretending, especially now with Chuck being the way he was right now...they were still forcing themselves into a deal that would never work out. They were going to ruin their lives.

"Wait here, guys," Chuck said, and then he made his way through the double doors that made the entrance to his laboratory and disappeared. Amelia sat there, reaching out for her daughters' hands, she felt like something big was going to happen, but she wasn't sure if it was a good or bad thing.

Chuck appeared once again, wheeling in a massive coffin shaped box. Amelia's face blanched at that, her eyes wide. Lost in the haze of confusion and morbid curiosity, her grip on her daughters' hands tightened. Dean had jumped up from his seat, helping Chuck wheel the large metal box upright on the wooden floors. She watched as his hands lingered on the silver steel box, eyeing it with the same wonderment she was. 

"What is that?" Gabriel asked.

Chuck smirked, tapping the box on its side. It made a thudding noise. It wasn't hollow or empty, there was something inside it. Dean wedged the barrow underneath it, stopping it from tipping or moving anywhere.

"This..." Chuck said with a bright smile on his face. "Is the future. Dean, if you wouldn't mind,"

Dean nodded, noticing the small latch on the side of the box. Amelia watched in awe and rapture as Dean pulled at it until it came apart. He reached for the cool steel, pulling it open like a door. A cold blast of air streamed out towards him.

Amelia gasped. 

"Jimmy?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun duuuuunnnn!!


	3. The Debt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit more about this whole 'debt' business.

_Holy shit, it was a corpse!_

Chuck has finally lost it.

Dean looked up to Jimmy, or well… _the corpse_ of Jimmy and wondered just what the hell was running through the weird scientists mind. It had been a whole year since Jimmy died, they had _cremated_ him! This was either some fucked up reality, where people we now able to _un-_ cremate a person, or…they had cremated the wrong…guy?

Nah, that couldn’t be possible. They had been there, they were certain, Amelia had seen…Claire had cried…But here he was, James Novak, in a steel coffin, looking as if he was fresh faced and sleeping.

Wait…no…there was something _not Jimmy_ about Jimmy. Like the rise of his cheekbones, the lashes on his eyes, his eyebrows more furrowed hair more of a mess. This corpse no longer _looked like Jimmy._

He took the time to notice the _Not-Jimmy,_ taking in the messy hair – which Dean was somehow eager to want to run his fingers through – down those high apple cheekbones, his nose was straight, and his lips… _well…_

Dean really shouldn’t be looking at Jimmy like this.

But the guy had a body on him like nothing else. He was dressed in a white shirt, and black slacks that were too large on him – not Jimmy like at all. Jimmy was more of a tight suit, all casual and nonchalant. Happy and carefree. This guy, well, he had toned arms and a six pack that was clearly visible from the way his clothing worked on him.

He felt like he should be cold.

“Not Jimmy, my dear,” Dean heard the voice of his future father in law say to Amelia, sounding so confident and proud. “His name is Castiel.”

_Castiel…_

Huh…another angel name.

Chuck took hold of Amelia’s hand, bringing her up from her seat and walked her over to Castiel. “My debt is being paid to you, my dear,”

_Debt…_

_Five years ago…_

 

Dean Winchester knew that his world was about to end.

He watched on in horror as the old blonde woman held the piece of paper in her hand, glancing through the words with proceeding slowness. He clenched his fists together, green eyes narrowing, wanting to scream at the woman to hurry up.

“I must say,” She muttered, her voice hoarse due to the rampant high pitched screaming she always seemed to be doing. Calling all of the people to her side. Urgh, this was like some hunger games crap. He hadn’t expected to go through so much educational material to become a fire fighter, honestly, he had just expected a physical and training.

But he was glad he had, because now he was able to really help people.

If only this woman, his teacher for the past two years let him pass!

She hummed again, “This is something.”

“Something good?” He asked, taking a deep breath to relax himself. He was confident in his test; he had answered everything he could. He had done his best.

The teacher sighed noisily, but nodded. “Yes, you’ve passed.”

Dean’s eyes’ widened in surprise, “Seriously?”

She nodded, handing him his work back, a large ‘A’ written in red on the top of the front page.

“Congratulations,” She replied joyfully, watching as a large smile stretched across his face. “It seems your world is turning bright, Mr. Winchester.”

Smiling nervously, he nodded at her strange words and headed for the doors. “Thank you,”

He passed a few of his fellow colleagues and classmates, telling them the good news when they asked. Stepping out into the cool air, he stretched out, sliding his dissertation into his bag. Adjusting the strap against his shoulder he made his way down the concrete steps at the entrance.

The long and treacherous walk to his empty apartment was endearing as Dean took slow and miraculously heavy steps. The joy he had been granted with by ace-ing his dissertation was destroyed by his brother taking his Baby out for a ride last night, and not filling her tank up this morning, forcing him to walk to school and the few miles back home.

The chilling wind whistled past him, the eminent clouds above were darkening, giving the deceitful start of rain. To prove his point a drop of water fell onto his nose, dripping down the bridge of it and landing at the edge of his lips.

“What I wouldn’t give to have my car right now,” He sighed, letting a puff of steam release from his mouth.

The sounds of sirens ran through the empty street, and Dean turned to look around, maybe that would provide some sort of release from the sudden boredom, either that or make him forget about how bloody cold he was.

The sirens only came closer and closer, intriguing Dean more as he slowed down; hoping to catch a glimpse of what was to come. A police car swerved into the curb in front of him. Dean jumped back from the sudden shock and peered inside. A man in a police uniform sat inside, staring straight ahead of him.

“Can I help you officer?” Dean asked, eyeing the suspicious man. The man didn’t even acknowledge him. However, his voice rose from the car and the back passenger door opened, startling Dean.

“Get in the car, Mr Winchester,”

 

The world around him seemed to mesh and void in and out in the inky blackness. He could hear the thumping of his heartbeat loud in his ears, drowning out the sound of someone calling his name.

Fear erupted as his veins pounded, where was he? What was he doing here? Had he been kidnapped? The yelling of the voice only got louder and louder, but the pounding of his heart drowned out the cries, making his mind explode against the intensity.

_What is happening to me?_

He could barely open his eyes, the white blinded him, taking away all of the quietness in the darkness and screaming at him with the white. He clenched his eyes shut, groaning against the protesting shrieking of the pounding blood that sounded like a beating drum thumping madly all over his body. His throat was dry and scratchy, adding onto the pain of the headache erupting into his mind.

The person yelling his name sounded quieter and quieter with each passing second, as if he were going away. The faint sound of something crashing against a floor sounded soon after, corrupting the deafening once again.

Who...?

“Professor Alistair, he’s showing signs of waking,”

His dry throat chafed as he pulled open his eyes against the white, he could barely make out the beeping and creeping sounds that the room seemed to have. He was in a laboratory hospital, the icy metal table, the intense white and the wires and tubes making their way to monitors and other machinery planted a few ways away from him.

Make the headache stop…

“His reaction is all off, sir.” The same voice said. “Do you think it was right to just take him from the street?”

Another voice replied, “I agree, we have so many—”

“Silence!” A third voice replied, grated and low. Dean jerked at the sound; it was not a nice feeling. “This man is here because his mother made a deal, so I suggest you zip it and continue with the experimentations,”

Dean turned his head, wincing as the wires pulled at his skin. He saw an older man standing a few feet away, poring over a computer monitor. He could faintly hear silent beeping and the tapping of keys as his fingers ran across the keyboard with expertise. Next to him stood a tall, old man, his dark black hair shone against the bright artificial lights and clashed against the white, his white coat was pressed on his form almost artistically.

“He’s showing extraordinary improvements, I’ll make money out of him yet,” The older man, Professor Alistair replied, his gaze rose up to Dean and he smiled brightly. “He’s conscious.”

Dean could barely keep up as he saw three other attendants wearing deep green scrubs rush over to him and start work over the machinery around him. A blonde woman leant over his form and started to carefully take off the patches and needled wires that were prodded into him, only the wires that adorned his forehead were kept on.

At least he could move about without wincing, but the wires on his head prevented him from going anywhere. Professor Alistair, obviously the boss character to this laboratory, walked over to his, the smile still present, stretching widely across his face.

Dean eyed him oddly.

“Don’t be alarmed,” He spoke to Dean calmly, patiently as he waited for Dean to adjust to the sudden newness that he was encountered with. Dean watched as Professor Alistair waved his hand to the attendants and they finished what they were doing and walked out of the room.

“My name is Alistair, my companion here is Meg,” he pointed to the blonde woman behind the computer, who waved with a bright smile. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Dean Winchester,”

“Where am I?” Dean asked, trying to get up.

Meg, still behind the computer suddenly stood up, alarming the two by the bed. “Try not to get up; you’re not to your normality yet,”

_Normality?_

Alistair shook his head and smiled gratifyingly at the woman. He smirked and returned that gaze to Dean. He felt like he had just been dunked in freezing cold water. “Please treat this place as if it were your own, with some exceptions of course.”

“Why am I here?”

“Your father’s debt brought you here,” Alistair’s straightforward answer startled Dean, and suddenly he remembered it all. The endless yelling at home, his mother having to work harder and longer hours, his father selling their things, their home having to be re-mortgaged, and almost repossessed.

No one could tell Sammy…he was going to law school, he didn’t need all this shit on top of all of that.

But had his parents finally gone off the deep end and sold _him?_ And for what? To do experiments on him?

What the fuck was going on?

“Why am I _here_?” He repeated, waving her arm out to indicate the room they were in.

Alistair chuckled. “Why, Mr. Winchester, I’m saving you from a life of poverty and sadness.”

“Why?” Dean asked. “Why are you doing this? My parents’ debt shouldn’t have warranted me being sold to you, what are you doing to me?”

Alistair looked down, a malicious smirk rising to his face. “I will not lie to you, my dear. Chuck Novak’s latest creations needed a biogenetic form to withhold the technology he created. I had thought that just-born would work, but that was a failure. Too bad, if it _had_ worked, maybe Charles would have allowed me back in,”

“You’ve killed babies?” Dean yelled incredulously, appalled at the idea. How many young infants had this man killed to make his work a success?

“Oh please, if it weren’t for those failures, you’d not be here,” His eyes narrowed at Dean’s intentions. Dean’s eyes narrowed in anger. He tried to get up, to get away from the man, but found he couldn’t.  “The technology he created was just too vast for little brains, but then I met your mother,”

“She’s a lovely lady,” Meg pointed out, typing as she spoke.

Dean growled.

Alistair nodded. “I don’t think she really knew just what she was selling, but she agreed, and now I’m here to take my side of the deal.”

“Oh, Mrs. Winchester tried to get out of the deal,” Meg grinned, straightening her glasses on her nose. “Of course, we never did tell her _why_ we needed you.”

“Fuck you, you don’t own me,” Dean growled, not at all afraid at the thought of something happening to his body. After all, he had no idea how long he had been like this.

“You’re right about that, little thing,” Alistair said slowly, holding a hand to his chin, rubbing it thoughtfully. “The deal said you’d marry the oldest Novak,”

“What?” Dean asked, incredulously. “I do not agree to this, you _can’t do this!”_

“It’s already been done, your parents agreed to the deal,” Alistair grinned, leaning close to Dean. “You wouldn’t want dear old Sammy finding out, would you?”

“I can imagine the headlines, ‘a young law student, found dead due to a seriously fatal wound to his head’.” Meg cackled, holding her hands up in the air.

Alistair grinned, turning to Alex. “The murderer has yet to be found,”

Dean sucked in a deep breath. Fuck, _fuck, fuck fuck!_ How could they do this! Why! Why were they doing this to him?

His head lolled to the side, this was it. This was his life now, married off to some asshole Novak. But he couldn’t…Sammy couldn’t know. He’d never let his little brother get hurt.

“Oh my, I think he’s given up” Alistair tilted his head to Dean, slightly confused at his loss of fire. “You really care that much about baby Winchester?”

“Aww, isn’t that adorable!” Meg said with a smug look on his face.

“What happens now?” Dean asked calmly. He really needed to see his family, to speak with them, to make sure they were safe and…well, to forgive them. He knew it wasn’t solely their fault. It was all an accident, and he wasn’t going to waste time being angry about it…

He was never going to see life again…

“You’re doing fine, your vitals are normal the last time you were checked,” Alistair stated, returning to Meg’s side to check on one of the three monitors in front of him. “Great, I think you’re all set.”

_Set for what?_


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...the plot kinda...doesn't go anywhere.  
>  But there is much confusion from the previous chapter, that will slowly start to take light in the coming chapters.

This is not happening.

_This could not be happening!_

Amelia looked accusingly up into the man in the coffin. A replica of a man that _had_ been her husband. Though this _thing_ looked identical to her Jimmy, he also looked _nothing_ like her Jimmy at all. In fact, there was something slightly _off_ about him _._ It was like looking into a reflection of what her late husband had looked like, but the reflection had ripples passing through it, distorting it.

“That can’t be…what have you done?” Amelia asked, looking at Chuck and pointing at the sleeping man.

Chuck ran a hand through his hair, making the ends stick up even more. He swung in a circle until he stood directly in front of the corpse. Amelia shuddered when she looked at it again, her stomach fluttered, squelching and shivering. That was a dead man up there, a man who _was not her late husband._

“What do you think you’re trying to pull, Grandpa,” Claire cried, standing up from her seat and pointing at the sleeping corpse. “D’you think this is some sort of game?”

Chuck looked crestfallen, taking a glance back at his creation. He had thought they’d like it, but instead he was being yelled at.

Michael stood up then, taking his fathers’ side – like he always did. “Father has worked hard on his invention. Let’s just hear him out,”

“Thank you Michael, just wait, you guys, you’ll see,” Chuck tried, turning and pressing a few buttons hidden in the large coffin. A few muted beeping sounds erupted from the box itself, before the man inside started to move.

Chuck stepped back, holding a hand out to his invention, the ‘ta-da’ was silent. As it always had been. Chuck did this all the time, there were so many household accessories and _almost_ _finished_ inventions scattered around their house. Those that worked were sent off to his company to be created in masses and sold everywhere, and though Dean was excited about _that_ part of Chuck’s inventions. This Castiel…Chuck was playing God this time. And that couldn’t be good.

Dean watched, fascination and something akin to…well he didn’t want to say heat, but it was definitely interest, at the pit of his stomach. The corpse, this _Castiel,_ his chest had started moving, and Dean could surprisingly hear a thin, thread like, thudding of a heart beating. His eyes widened, and he blamed it on being so close to the coffin, but there it was, a pulse, increasing slowly as the time grew.

A few moments passed, where everyone was silent.

And then Castiel took in a mighty deep breath, sucking in air enough to fill his empty lungs. His skin heated up, and his chest started to rise and fall as he started taking breaths. His fingers twitched, bare toes stretching out. And then, slowly, ever so slowly, his eyes opened. They twitched, the pupils expanding, before shrinking, contracting to what looked normal for the area. They moved over the room, taking in his surroundings, he eyed each of them one by one. Those eyes stopping at Dean first, as he was the closest – Dean thought that was the case.

Dean looked up at those eyes, and what eyes they were. They were by far the bluest eyes he had ever seen. However the irises weren’t…there was something different about them, and honestly Dean wished he could look more closely, to see just what this man _was_.

Castiel dropped their shared gaze, and then moved swiftly over the rest of the room, before resting back on Dean’s gaze once again. His mouth opened, jaw working a little, he ran his tongue over his front teeth, as if seeing them for the first time – honestly, Dean thought it _was_ Castiel’s first time. It looked as if this was the first time Castiel had ever been awake.

“Hello,”

His voice was gravelly, low pitched and all sorts of…well, it was definitely different to the way Jimmy had spoken. It was a little choked too, as if he had a sore throat, but this may have been the first real time he had ever used his vocal chords – if that was what was in his throat. Though he wouldn’t put it passed Chuck to create an _actual_ human being. A clone perhaps.

Because this man was nothing like Jimmy Novak. Dean could attest to that. But at the same time, he was.

“Welcome to the world, Castiel,” Chuck said with a bright smile, motioning his hands out to the man.

Castiel nodded, looking around to each of them again. He moved his hands, his arms, and his shoulders. His hands grasped the edges of the coffin, and he pushed himself forward.

_Bad move._ His feet, unable to take his new weight, or _any weight_ at all it seemed, shivered, and crumbled at the unused move, making Castiel tumble to the ground at a very fast rate.

Dean had gotten to him first.

He caught Castiel before the man hit the ground. He held his arms around Castiel’s body, under his arms, wrapping him in a tight embrace to his chest. Castiel was surprisingly light for such a strong looking man. He heard Castiel’s intake of breath, before the man tried to stand up, though his arms were still wrapped around Dean’s shoulder, keeping him steady. On wobbling legs, which quaked even after he had sought his footing, he looked down and twiddled his toes – which Dean found all kinds of adorable – and settled his balance.

“Thank you,” he said monotonously, almost as if he were a robot programmed to say something like that.

Dean didn’t like it. But he nodded. “No problem, you gonna be okay?”

Castiel nodded. He flexed his feet once again, before he let go of Dean entirely. He stood tall, though still a few inches shorter than Dean, and looked around the room once again.

“My name is Castiel,” he introduced himself, looking directly at Amelia and Claire. “I am not here to take James Novak’s place in your hearts, but I wish to help where I can,”

_Oh…_

Dean sucked in a breath, looking up at the others in the room.

Castiel was here for Amelia.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooooh...we're getting somewhere!

As soon as Castiel had jumped out of that coffin and made himself known to the world, Michael had been watching Dean. Watching the way he reacted to the biogenetic life form before him. He knew that look. Because _he_ had had the same look on his own face before, countless of times, with another man.

_Father can’t know._

Michael quickly straightened up from his spot at the other end of the couch and made his way directly over to Dean, dismissing Gabriel’s eyes following him. This didn’t concern him. Gabriel could go out and live his life to the fullest, especially with that new beau he was trying to woo.

He stood directly in front of Dean, staring at his dumbfounded fake-fiancé. This had to stop before father saw them, and then both he and Dean would be in trouble. So he took a tight grip of Dean's arm, dragging him away from the others in the room – away from Castiel.

Weirdly enough, he was worried about Dean and his lingering look back on Castiel, but not in the way he was supposed to be as a fiancé, jealous or whatever. He was worried, because if his father found out, if father _saw_ that dreamy look on Dean’s face, they’d both be done for.

He gave his father and the others in the room, a quaint smile with a confident nod, and dragged Dean out of the living room, through the halls and into the courtyard in the back garden.

“Son of a bitch- _Michael_ ,” Dean said slowly, narrowing his gaze at the man dragging him through the house, holding onto his arm so tight, stopping him from leaving. “Where are you taking me?”

“Somewhere where we can talk

in private,” Michael replied curtly. He made his way to the corner, where the area was cordoned off a little. They were hidden behind the rose trellis, it was only then that Michael stopped, letting go of Dean’s arm and standing in the middle of the entrance of the courtyard.

“Wait.” Dean growled, pushing at Michael’s chest, in hopes to make him move away from the exit. “What the hell dude, what is going on?”

Michael let out a breath, trying hard not to smirk. “I saw it.”

“Saw what?”

Michael pursed his lips, giving Dean an exasperated look. “The look you gave the....the...” – he paused, unsure just _what_ that biogenetic thing really was – “Castiel.” 

Dean’s eyes widened, he held his arms up before him, taking a step back, as if he expected Michael was going to harm him. Did he not see how happy Michael was that he had finally found someone else? Did he not see that this was a _good_ thing for _both of them?_

“Michael, man, I'm sorry.” He replied, averting his gaze away from Michael. For a scant moment, with the light bursting through the rose bushes, illuminating those pretty green eyes, Michael saw it. He saw the whole reason why so many people had told him he was _lucky_ to have such a pretty fiancé.

But that was all he saw. His heart didn’t skip a beat, his breath didn’t falter, and his eyes did indeed wander away from the man before him.

His heart already belonged to another, his breath was slow and steady, and his eyes already had perfection to look at. And Dean wasn’t it.

“It wasn't.” Dean continued, his cheeks turning a little pink, and yes, it was a little endearing, a little cute. But Michael _felt nothing._ “It didn’t mean anything, “

He had to stop the man before anything happened. “No, don't. I…”

He took a moment to try and get his words across in a way that wasn’t insulting or endearing. He just wanted Dean to understand.

“I have known since the first time I saw you that we are by no means compatible.” He explained as clearly as he could, not wanting to hurt the man. He needed Dean’s help after all. “I don't… _we_ don't love each other. I can't marry you.”

There, that should do it.

“You love someone else. Don't you?” Dean said suddenly, eyes wide in surprise.

“Yes.” He replied, because Dean deserved to know the truth.

Dean’s eyes widened and a brilliant smile rose to his lips. And Michael saw it again, the whole ‘pretty’ thing others told him about. He understood it now, but he still felt absolutely nothing.

Dean was not _lover_ material. Not to Michael anyway. He was more…a brother in arms, one who was in the same situation he was in now. Especially with the dreamy look he had been giving the biogenetic Castiel.

“You don't know how happy I am to hear you say that.” Dean said with that bright smile on his face. But a mere moment later, a frown fell on his face. “But the problem is. I _have_ to marry you. It was in the contract.”

“No, not really.” Michael stated, having read the contract explicitly when it had first come across him all those months ago. He had made sure to study the ins and outs and had found one little loophole, one little thing that would save them. But it hadn’t ever worked before, not until now. “The contract states you are to marry a Novak.”

Dean paused for a moment, thinking it through.

Anna was already engaged, Gabriel was still too young, and Jimmy was…well, he wasn’t here anymore. All that left…was Michael.

“I ain't marrying Amelia,” he replied with a gruff groan. Sure Amelia was great, and she and her kid were lovely, but he had no interest in her. He thought of her as a sister, or something. Nothing more than that. Just thinking about marriage to her…it rubbed him in all the wrong ways.

Michael rolled his eyes. “No, you fool. Marry Castiel.” 

“What?”

Honestly, the man was an idiot sometimes. “Marry Castiel.” He repeated, “He is strictly a Novak, fathered by Charles Novak.”

Dean’s eyes widened, the contract hadn’t strictly said for him to marry the eldest Novak, that was only what Alistair had told him. The contract just said to marry a Novak and Sam and his family would be safe.

“Get father to take custody of him as a child.” Michael continued, seeing the wheels turning in Dean’s head as he started to understand the plan. “And then marry him. “

There, easy. Problem solved.

Dean would marry Castiel, and that would give Michael the chance to finally start dating his lover properly, no more late night calls, and no more short breaks and even shorter dates in the hospitals. No longer would he have to hide his love from his family. He could finally propose like he had wanted to all those years ago.

“One problem,” Dean suddenly said, raining on Michael’s parade. “Hot R2D2 is programmed to stay with Amelia, “

Dean was right. However Michael had planned for that as well. “I have someone who can help with that, “

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun duuuun!  
> Well, at least we now know that Michael really doesn't want to get married to Dean. This is all because of Chuck Novak.  
> And THAT man is not doing anyone a favour right now.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, its been a while...  
> ...I'm sorry. But I'm back now, and I will do my best to make this as fluff filled and with the least amount of angst as possible.

Charlie Bradbury.

Well, there was no telling what the sparky little redhead could do. She was small, bouncy and fully of energy, but at the same time Dean saw something in her, something that was filled with dark sadness. It had made Dean ache a little on the inside when he had first seen her.

She had appeared at the front door of the Novak house, a whole week after Michael had told Dean about the idea to marry Castiel. Honestly, Dean was a little...well, he really liked the idea, but at the same time, he was worried. Castiel was gorgeous, there was no denying that, and there was definitely something about him that made Dean want to just sit there and watch him.

And watch he had done. For the past week he had been bumping into Castiel almost all the time. It was like kismet, destiny, or  _something._ Because accidents don't just happen accidentally. Whenever Dean was hungry, Cas would be in the kitchen cooking, when he needed to do laundry, Cas was in the laundry room, ready with his washing load. Whenever Dean had come back from work, Cas had been there, welcoming him into the house, and helping him with his jacket and offering him a beer. And that was just the beginning.

In fact, there hadn't been a moment where Dean _didn't_ know where Cas was. 

After the first three days, he had asked Gabriel and Amelia if Castiel had been doing the same thing for them. He had initially thought this was just who Castiel was. But they had said he hadn't. He had just been...well, pretty distant when it came to the others in the house. Whereas he was always standing a little too close to Dean be considered normal. It was probably just coincidence, he and Cas just happened to be in the same place at the same time

_Right?_

And that was another thing, since when had he started calling Castiel 'Cas'?

It didn't help in quelling his heart from beating madly, or his thoughts from running away from him. For the past week, it had been Cas, Cas, Cas. And...Dean didn't mind that at all. His crush was growing into a full blown out _like_ (he wasn't going to admit he was starting to really fall in love with Cas, not yet. It had only been a week after all). But new relationships could be hard. What if, when everything fell through, Castiel didn't _want_ Dean? What if they did all of that crap, and Dean found Castiel didn't love him at all? What if Cas hated him?

What if it all was just a stupid crush?

If that was the case, Dean would still go ahead with it. He had promised Michael, and he had seen Amelia looking at Castiel, looking at him as if he was a stranger. He knew from that one look that Amelia didn't care for Castiel.  The only one that wanted Castiel and Amelia together was Chuck. And wasn't that a punch to the face. They wouldn't be able to change Chuck's mind so quickly. They needed to show that Castiel did not care for Amelia, though he had a soft spot for Claire – but honestly, who didn't. Claire may be a right old teenager, but she was good people.

That was why Charlie was there. Dean had let her into the house and ushered her to the kitchen, where Michael was waiting. It was one of the few places furthest from Chuck's office where they could talk. 

Charlie sat down on the stools, looking around the room. 

“So, we've already spoken about what we want from you,” Michael said, placing a steaming cup of tea in front of her. 

She nodded, taking the cup and taking a small sip of it. “I can't wait to get my hands on the android,”

“His name is Castiel,” Dean stated almost automatically. He grimaced at how protective he was acting over someone that should have technically been a stranger. Oh god, he thought he's be able to hide his crush from this new person, but it seemed this was his life now. Crushes didn't grow so quickly, did they? Maybe there really was something about Castiel that called to him, like a beacon of safety.

It wasn't a surprise Dean wanted him, and the nights alone in his bed, thinking about how that gorgeous man had fallen out of the coffin and into his arms. Of how his scent had been more human than machine, like thunder on his tongue, and the soft scent of laundry detergent. Of how he'd smile at him, talk to him – even that whole lack of social conduct thing he had going was adorable.  Castiel had been warm, firm and strong. He wasn't tall, just a few inches shorter than Dean himself, and his voice –fuck, that  _voice._ Well, it always had a starring role in his dreams that was for sure. 

But this was  _just a stupid crush,_ right now. He wasn't the kind of guy who would fuck and run, he wanted a relationship. He wanted someone who he could share a life with. Sure he had been forced to do so with Michael, because of a debt, but...Castiel.  Well, Castiel was definitely more easy on the eyes, and then there was that  _something_ about him that made Dean eager.

But first, they had to change Castiel's internal settings first. Get him to stop his initial programming. And  _that_ was where Charlie came in.

“Sorry, _Castiel,_ ” Charlie replied, placing the cup down onto the table. “When do you want to do it?”

“Following fathers schematics, Castiel has just finished his reading and should be in the laundry room now,” Michael replied, checking his phone and holding it out in front of Charlie. 

Dean had wondered what he had been doing last night. He had come downstairs after he had found he just couldn't sleep, and had spied Michael coming out of Chuck's laboratory office, his phone held out in front of him. Castiel had been sleeping soundly in his coffin, surprisingly, he had denied sharing the bed with Amelia – though Chuck was slightly unhappy with that, he didn't expect a machine to take the place of his son, so he let Castiel had his way.

And _no,_ Dean was _not_ out there in the middle of the night to catch one last sneaky peek at the pretty Cas before he went to bed. He really needed that glass of water. Only one week had passed and he was turning into a stalker.

Dean glanced at Michael's phone as the man handed Charlie the complicated blueprints that made up Castiel. He was _a lot_ more advance than Dean had expected.

Charlie took hold of it, looking deeply at the images on the screen, she flipped the images bigger and smaller, just to make sure she understood everything. The tea had turned cold before she let out a breath.

She stood up then, turning to Dean. “Alright then, I have a plan,”

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this seems rushed.  
> It don't want this to be a monster like my other fics. But I am thinking of going back to do one shots later, once the main story is finished.

The plan was simple.

Or at least that’s what Charlie had said. Dean thought Charlie was downright malevolent, sadistic little red headed vixen, that’s what she was.

“Go on, go in there and get your man,” she had said, pushing Dean into the laundry room where Cas was, crouched onto the ground, putting a few shirts and jeans into the large washing machine. He looked up at Dean and gave that Mona Lisa smile, the one that was there, but not at the same time.

Though his eyes still sparkled when he saw Dean, and Dean had to admit his chest had puffed up proudly when he found out Cas only gave _him_ that kind of smile.

“I…uh…” he paused; Cas was just too much of a beautiful thing to take in. He was getting tongue tied. He, Dean Winchester, was getting flustered over an android. Looking to his hands, he saw the wayward piece of clothing in his hands, and thrust it over to Cas. “One more for the washing,”

Castiel nodded, taking the piece of clothing and threw it into the wash with the others. Dean watched with keen interest as Castiel moved, putting the detergent and powder into the machine, and turning it on. He was so flowing and graceful; it was hard to think he was anything but human. But there was something, _something_ about him that drew Dean to him like a moth to a flame.

“Is there something you needed from me?” Castiel asked, bringing Dean out of his revere.

Dean shook his head, but then paused. Instead he nodded. “Yeah, there is something you can do for me,”

Oh god, was he _really_ going to do this?

“Ca—can I…” he sucked in a deep breath, oh god, if this worked out, and then he was going to get a good look at everything. And he knew if he did, then his dreams wouldn’t just feature Cas’s voice any more. “Could you possibly do something for me?”

Castiel, sweet, trusting Castiel, _oh_ Dean felt like an asshole for making Cas do this. But he had to do it. He needed to do it; it was the betterment of the family. He was helping all of them. But then again, it was helping  _him._ He was being selfish. But...he  _had_ to do it.

“I’d do anything to help you,” Castiel replied.

And it was things like that that made Dean melt into a massive puddle. He just couldn’t take all the sweet talk Cas would launch at him - and only him, Dean had noticed in the few weeks they had been together - and he said it so normally, like he was commenting on the weather. But it floored Dean every time.

“I was really interested in getting to know you a bit better,” Dean said quickly, trying _not_ to make it sound like the flirtation he knew he was attempting. Castiel wouldn’t understand a flirtation would he? “Do you wanna go grab a cup of coffee or get dinner or something?”

“I’m sorry, Dean, but I do not eat or drink,” Castiel said, his voice slightly raised as he spoke. See, different from every time he spoke to someone else. It was like Castiel acted different around him from the get go. But that couldn’t be possible. He was an android; he wasn’t programmed to act differently around anyone. “But I would like to get to know you better as well; I can watch you eat dinner,”

Dean’s cheeks tinged a bright pink. Oh sweet merciful gods, this was torture of the weirdest kind. Cas was such an innocent little thing. He probably had no idea what he was saying, or doing to Dean’s insides. He was giving Dean false hope, for fucks sakes.

When Dean got out of this, he was going to kill Charlie.

“Okay, it’s…a date,” Dean replied quickly, adding the reason why he had come here in the first place. “Hey, uhm, while we’re talking about getting to know one another better…can I take a look at your…uhh…power outlets and stuff?”

That sounded _way_ to much like Dean wanted to see him naked. And…well…that wasn’t _completely_ a lie. But he was trying to be smooth – sure Winchester, you keep telling yourself that --. It was weird just how flirty and graceful he could be around women, hell around Michael when he was forced to pretend around others, yet here comes six feet of hunky deliciousness, and he’s all tongue tied, bumping into furniture and acting like a complete loon.

“My power outlets?” Castiel asked, his head tilting sideways cutely.

Ah, fuck. _Really?_ How could a fucking _android_ be so god damn adorable? This was no longer fair!

Dean nodded. “The computer chip thing?” he asked, knowing this was pretty much the equivalent of Dean asking someone to show them their dick or something. It was a pretty intimate thing. That and a power outlet was definitely something he should keep hidden away. Who know just what someone could do to him.

Honestly, Dean thought he was grasping at straws. Castiel wouldn’t show something so important and intimate to Dean. Who the hell was Dean to him other than another person who lived in the house he lived in?

Dean was just a face in the crowd, wasn’t he? Castiel shouldn’t trust anyone. And he definitely shouldn’t trust someone like Dean, _at all_. After all, Dean wanted him, in the less than biblical sense, and though he wanted Cas for something that wasn’t ill will, or with any evil intentions. This bond they had created between them. It had bloomed to such an extent in such a short time; it was something that Dean held dear to his heart.

So he never would have expected Castiel to reach for him, taking his hand and placing Dean’s palm on his beating heart. Oh wow, Castiel was warm, and the heavy thudding of his heart was such a nice solace. Dean wanted to lean his head against that strong chest and listen to his heart beating.

“This is my processing chip,” Castiel said slowly, taking Dean’s hand by the wrist and moving it slightly up to his neck. Dean’s hand instinctively curled around Cas’s throat, feeling a slight humming under the skin. “This is my information outlet,”

The humming buzzed when Castiel spoke, much like any normal human’s did. It was fascinating how human like this android was. Dean was fascinated, and he wanted to know more. Castiel’s trust in him was everything to him, and it really hurt that he was intending to do something so vile to him.

Changing his code…ugh.

He wanted to step away, to walk away and never come back. How could he think of doing something so…but Amelia didn’t want his constant attention, and honestly, all he was going to do was take that small little variable in his mechanic binary code, his DNA, that created a bond with Amelia, forced him to think of nothing about others, and only focus his hearts attention to Amelia, and maybe…maybe mould it so Cas would pay more attention to him.

He was a bad man. He was playing God, because he loved this man. Castiel’s smile was so bright though, he held onto Dean’s wrist, sliding his fingers so they laced between the spaces. Oh god…his skin was warm, and Dean could feel the soft humming sound vibrating like a pulse against his fingers.

Dean sucked in a breath. He couldn’t do this. “Cas…”

But it was like Castiel had read his mind; he pressed their joined hands tighter over his throat and smiled that beautiful Mona Lisa smile of his. “I want you to see,”

He…Cas _wanted_ Dean to see the most intimate part of him?  _Oh god…_

Castiel led Dean’s hand to the space just behind his ear, and Dean felt the small press of skin, it was a little thicker than the rest of his body, a little harder too. He pressed it, and felt a small something give way, and something much more metal came out.

“This is my information input slot,” Castiel explained, that smile so wonderful on his lips. “Would you like to see more?”

Dean couldn’t do this. He pressed against the slot again, closing it. And let out a long, slow breath.

“Is everything okay?” Castiel asked.

Dean shook his head, because this was all getting to be too much for him. He loved Cas, and he just couldn’t do this anymore. He wouldn’t force Castiel to love him, he _couldn’t._ So instead, he thought to do this the old fashioned way. That way, Cas would know how he felt, and then Dean could walk away, get it off his chest and finally move on.

“I’m in love with you, Cas,”

Castiel tilted his head to one side, taking in the information put upon him. Dean had expected his eyes to cloud over with anger, or glaze over with confusion.

What he hadn’t expected however, was for those eyes to brighten and that smile to widen, so prettily.

“It is against my coding, Dean Winchester,” Castiel stated, sucking in a deep breath, he looked straight into Dean’s eyes and said four words that floored Dean. “I love you too,”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean's having a little bit of a crisis...

Dean had ran.

Like a coward, he had looked deep into Castiel’s beautiful, sky blue eyes and felt his knees knock, his legs tremble, his stomach flip out and instead of doing what he wanted to do – which included throwing Cas against the thrumming washing machine and kiss him senseless, among other things – he had instead leaned in close, pressed a scant, barely there kiss to the corner of Cas’s pretty mouth, and then turned around and bolted.

He was an idiot.

He could still feel the soft, yet almost electrical zing of those lips against his, the taste was clean, which wasn’t all the surprising. Though Dean had expected Cas to taste like electricity or that weird metallic taste you got sometimes when you went to a garage or something.

But Cas…well, Cas tasted pure.

Oh, he was going straight to hell that was for sure.

He could still feel the heat of Cas’s skin under his own, the thrumming of his throat when he spoke, the feel of his soft and smooth flesh under his fingertips.

Cas had said he loved him too.

How? Why? When?

How had this happened? Cas had been programmed to care for Amelia and Claire, and only them. The others in the house were just there as fodder, as compliance for him, they were just there for him to do something when Amelia went to work, and Claire went to school. He should have been nothing more than entertainment for Cas.

And yet?

Could Dean believe him? _Was Cas able to love?_

Oh, and that was the kicker wasn’t it. In the end, Cas was a still an android, still just bits of machinery and code – though Dean didn’t believe that for a second. He had always thought there was something profound about the man, the way his eyes held so much information, so much curiosity and so much care.

No machine was able to replicate so much humanity. It was amazing, and seemed impossible. If Dean hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he didn’t think he could ever believe it. But here Cas was, the beautiful, wonderful, curious man who he had fallen madly in love with. Who loved him back…

And here Dean was…running out of the laundry room, leaving a confused Castiel in his wake. Oh god, Cas had said he loved him too.

But what if he meant it like…a brotherly love? Or a friendly love? Or something more familial? What if he didn’t mean it the same way Dean did?

And what had Dean done? He had kissed him.

He wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole. How could he be such an idiot! _Of course_ Cas didn’t care for him like that. He was programmed to love Amelia and Claire above all else. He _does not love you, Dean._

“Well, you’ve gone and fucked that all up,” he muttered to himself.

“Fucked what up?”

At the sound of Charlie’s voice, and her red headed slickness appearing next to him, Dean jumped, startled at her sudden appearance.

“Son of a bitch!” he yelled, holding a hand to his rapidly thudding heart beating.

Charlie raised an eyebrow, and asked again. “Fucked what up?”

Dean dropped his head down, gaze darting this way and that as he tried to look for a way out. But it was no use. There was nowhere else to go, other than directly in Charlie’s way. And she knew this. She crossed her arms over her chest and gazed down at him – though she was so much shorter than him.

“What happened?” Her voice was a lot less teasing now, and a lot more serious. Dean was grateful for that, because he didn’t think he would be able to take the teasing after ruining everything.

“I…” he paused, sucking in a deep breath. For good measure, he took a look around them, seeing the coast was clear. He leaned in closer to Charlie, whispering in her ear. “I…uh…told him how I felt and…kissed him…a little,”

Charlie’s dark eyes widened in glee and a pretty smile graced her face. She punched him lightly in his shoulder. “You go get him, girl!”

“No, this is bad!” Dean cried, he took another look around the hallway they had stopped at. Not taking any chances, he grabbed Charlie’s arm and dragged her into one of an empty room.

Charlie had a cheeky, teasing look on her face as she stood before him. Dean closed the door behind them, and turned to her.

“I can’t…” he paused, trying to get his point across. But his thoughts were running away from him. His mind still fixated on how Castiel felt, the firmness of his body, the heat of his skin, the taste of his lips. Dean couldn’t think straight. “ _Son of a bitch,_ this is not good. I can’t believe I…”

Charlie placed a heavy hand on his arm, grounding him from his inevitable panic attack. She told him to take in a few deep breaths.

“It couldn’t have been that bad,” she soothed him. “Tell me what happened,”

Dean nodded, leaning back on the wall by the door, letting the past few moments wash over him. No, it wasn’t a bad thing. Not at all. He had gotten a kiss, and confessed. He just wasn’t sure what Cas meant by _love._

“I told him I loved him…and then he said it back, and I just _had_ to…” – he let out a long, harrowing breath – “I…kissed him, and then I ran,”

“You _kissed_ him…okay,” Charlie nodded, exaggerating as she moved her head. “So, he told you he loved you, what’s the problem then?”

Dean’s shoulders fell, “Look, I’ve never thought of him as _anything_ but _Cas_ , you know? But now I just can’t think of anything else but Cas being... _not human_. Like…does he know what love is?”

“Oh Dean, Dean, Dean,” Charlie slung her arm over his shoulder, dragging him onto the edge of the bed. He sat down next to her, his head in his hands. “It may seem scary now, but I promise you, everything is gonna be fine,”

Though he knew Charlie was only saying this to make him feel less like the sad creep he was. For some reason, Dean believed her.

There was a knock on the door, followed by the door creaking open a little. Dean’s heart did a weird flip when he saw Cas on the other side of the door, looking a little worse for wear. His hair was in disarray, as if he had been running his fingers through it constantly since they had last seen one another. His usually straight laced suit was crumpled.

He looked anxious as hell.

“Oh…I thought you’d be…” Castiel pushed the door open a little more and reached a hand out to Charlie. “Hello, I am Castiel,”

Charlie got up suddenly, her eyes wide with glee. She reached for his hand, shaking it vehemently. “Ch-Charlie Bradbury, and uhh…yeah, you too!”

“It was a pleasure, Ms. Bradbury, I…should leave you two to it,” Castiel said, pausing for a moment, before he turned around.

Charlie held him back, tugging on his arm and pushing him into the bedroom. She winked at Dean and made her way to the door.

“You two need to talk,” she stated, before closing the door behind her.

Dean heard the tell-tale sound of a lock clicking into place, and he took a moment to wonder just _how_ she had locked the door from the outside, but thought not to worry. She was a miracle worker after all.

“You wanted to talk to me Dean?” Castiel asked.

Dean looked up to him, from the bed, taking in his frazzled form and wondered just _how_ he had gotten like that. It must have been something he said. Maybe…maybe Dean had broken him from their kiss?

Oh, he wanted to kiss him again. But not if it meant Cas would break! But he needed to know what Cas meant by _love._ He was being selfish, he knew it. _But he just needed to know._

He patted the empty spot next to him. “Yeah, I think we do,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [check out my latest update post for when this fic will be next updated~!](http://sakurai-ai.tumblr.com/post/173422214156/sakuraiais-ao3-chapter-updates)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....yeah...its been a while.  
>  Sorry?

We need to talk sounded like they were going to break up.

Not that they _were_ anything yet. All Dean had done was confess…

He patted the space next to him on the bed and took in a brave breath as he watched Castiel make his way slowly to the spot, sitting down stiffly. It almost made the nerves in Dean wither away – almost. It was so adorable how awkwardly human Cas looked right now.

But that was the kicker wasn’t it.

Cas _wasn’t_ human.

And Dean couldn’t wait anymore. He had all but reached into his chest, pulled out his heart, and thrown it at Cas’s direction, all embarrassed, nervous pile of mush that it was. He had confessed his feelings.

A small, masochistic part inside him told him to take what Cas had let him do, the barely there kiss they had shared, and keep it locked away inside him, pretend that Cas didn’t understand and that he could just laugh it off. Brush it off as nothing but _bros being bros._ But the more sadistic part of himself told him to just take it and run, Cas had said he loved you.

“What do you want to talk about?” Cas asked, his head doing that cute tilt, and his eyes scrunching up as he tried to read what Dean was feeling.

Fucking adorable.

“I…about the… _before,_ ” Dean sucked in a breath. He could do this. He _had_ to do this. It was for his own good. And for Cas's. He had to let Cas understand just what _kind_ of love he meant, what kind of _love_ he wanted from the android.

He just prayed Cas understood and that they could part as friends.

“I am in love with you,” Dean repeated, a little braver now that he had already said it before. It was surprising how easier it was to say it now. He had been shitting bricks before.

Cas nodded. “I believe you have told me so before, and may I repeat my previous reply; I love you too,”

Dean’s cheeks burst a bright pink, but he pushed Cas back, as if a little more distance between them would help him sort out his multitude of thoughts. It didn’t, not really. But then again, Dean always found it hard to think about anything coherently when Cas was around.

There was just something about him.

But he had to set this straight. “No I mean…I’m _in love_ with you,” – Cas did that cute confused cat like head tilt again, and Dean really wished for a moment that he didn’t feel like an old man trying to explain what a _crush_ was to a kid. “Like…I want to kiss you and do… _other stuff.”_

Cas, for all that he could be, squinted his eyes and took in what Dean was saying, he waited a moment as he processed the words given to him. Those few moments were like a knife digging deeper and deeper into Dean’s flesh.

Yup, this was it. Cas was going to be disgusted, and probably never come near him again. It sucked really, because Dean had started looking forward to their times together, he loved it when Cas would stay by his side and ask him questions, or when they would sit on the sofa – or that one time where they had both sat in Baby, looking up at the stars and talking about the future.

But his heart just had to get in the way. Sammy always told him; “You fall in love, you can’t programme it,”

Well, Sammy, sorry to burst your bubble, but in his case, you _could_ programme love. Cas had been programmed to love Claire. Dean was just an obstacle, something to get through in order to finish his directive.

His fingers itched, twitching, a small part of his mind looked down to the small patch of skin behind his ear, to where his chip was. Cas had shown him how to open it, how to get the chip out. It would be so easy to do so right now. Cas was so trusting; he wouldn’t question if Dean just went up and took his chip from him.

But Dean would never do anything like that, because though it would be so easy to just change Cas’s programming and have him love _him._ Dean was a sadistic asshole who wanted Cas to love him because _he_ wanted to love him, not because he was programmed to.

And that was the kicker wasn’t it.

Michael and Charlie had come up with a fantastic plan, all to help him – and to some extent Michael with his own love affair – but he couldn’t even do one lousy thing. How could he? He loved Cas!

“I forget that you are not a programme, sometimes humans need explanations,” Castiel stated in that deep, grating, almost mechanical voice. Though Dean hinted a little bit of sass in his tone. That adorable little son of a bitch.

But what was he saying?

“What…what do you mean?” Dean asked.

Castiel reached out for him then, enclosing his palms around Dean’s hand and placing them on his own lap. He was warm, his skin was a little clammy too, damp with sweat – another thing that caused Dean so much awe, android or not, Castiel was definitely more human than he let himself look – his cheeks burst a bright red, but he let Cas let him down gently.

This was what this was, right?

“I mean, Dean Winchester,” Castiel said slowly, enunciating each of his words as he spoke, drilling them into Dean’s head. “I love you too. And I… _desire_ you.” – he paused, trying to find the right words, looking away as if trying to decipher just what he wanted to say – “I know it is not in my programme, there must definitely be something wrong with me,” – he shook his head and turned back to staring at Dean, those deep blue eyes swimming with hope – “Every time I am with you, I… _feel things..._ I get hot, my pulse increases, and my eyes dilate.”

Dean’s eyes widened as he listened intently. What the hell?

“I think I…no, I _know_ I want the same things as you,” he stated clearly, emphasising his words by tightening his grip on Dean’s trembling hand. “I want to…feel the mouth thing we just did, and…I want to _learn_ with you.”

Dean sat there, stunned. Well, he got his answer. He should answer back, to tell Cas that…well, honestly, he didn’t know just what was happening to Cas, because from what he knew, Cas was an android, and he was programmed a certain way. Had he become sentient or something? Should they be worried for their safety? ( _Of Cas? Yeah right…_ ) But he couldn’t say anything, his throat had dried and he just…words weren’t…his brain had been fried.

Cas _actually_ loved him back.

“Son of a bitch…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now that we've got THAT sorted, let's get the rest of it out of the way.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's just say...Cas always gets what he wants.

Dean groaned and opened his eyes, not sure where he was or how he had gotten there. The last thing he remembered was sitting opposite Cas, having a nice dinner, just the two of them, on their impromptu _dates_ around the house. Since they were still trying to be inconspicuous and keeping their relationship a secret from Chuck – they needed time to get Chuck to understand that Cas was an integral part of the family, and not just a machine – they had to act like they were just friends, related by a family member, not that they were lovers.

Dean’s heart had grown so many sizes after Cas had confessed to him. To think, an android that was programmed to love another person had fallen in love with him. Damn right he was smug about that.

But that didn’t explain how he was _here._

He tried to use his right hand to rub the sleep from his eyes, but he found it was cuffed to the bed he was currently laying on. A sick feeling in his gut and a tug at the left arm proved that that hand was chained down, too. After two short kicks and another ‘I’m-going-to-throw-up’ feeling, he found his legs chained down also.

‘Dean Winchester, you have gotten yourself in big trouble this time,’ he told himself. That’s when he started to struggle. He used all his strength and energy to try and break the metal hold, but to no avail.

“You’re gonna wear yourself out before we start the fun,” a voice said from the lightened doorway. Dean turned from his struggling, breathing heavily. He saw only a silhouette, but he recognized the voice.

“Cas! What the hell?” Dean yelled, returning to his struggling.

Castiel just laughed and walked over to his prisoner. Castiel let out a chuckle. “You have no power here now, you’re all mine.”

Dean swallowed hard; Castiel was leaning over him, his face dangerously close, Dean could feel his breath fanning across his cheeks and felt his own cheeks grow warm.

“Now, let’s get that jacket and shirt off, hmm?” Castiel asked, a smile on his face.

Dean smiled back. He could escape or, at least pry off his damn handcuffs while his arms were unchained.

Castiel caught the smile and immediately knew what Dean was thinking. “Oh, don’t worry. We’ll do this one arm at a time.”

Dean’s smile faltered, and then disappeared altogether.

“Don’t be frightened.” Castiel murmured. “You look so pretty when you smile.”

When Dean didn’t oblige, Castiel sighed and uncuffed his right wrist. Dean’s hand had snapped up to take off the other cuff when Castiel’s hand grabbed his wrist.

“No way, Dean. You’re going to let me have this, after everything you’ve done to me,” Castiel said, pulling the jacket sleeve off and moving the worn leather under Dean’s body so he would be able to pull the other sleeve off quickly. Castiel then grabbed the hem of Dean’s shirt. Dean whimpered and arched off the bed as Castiel’s fingers ran along the hem of his undershirt, nails gripping and scraping delicately along his hips and sides.

“Hmm...you like that?” Castiel grinned.

Dean shook his head and replied, “I’d like it better if you let me go,”

“Nice sense of humour, but no.” Castiel grinned and tore the shirt up and over Dean’s arm and head. “Hmm...nice.” Castiel complimented, staring at his chest.

“Pervert.” Dean replied.

Castiel grinned as he recuffed Dean’s right hand. He then reached over and pinned his other hand down before unlocking the handcuffs. This time, Dean didn’t struggle as his jacket and shirt fell to the floor. Castiel buckled his hand back to the bed.

“You have a very nice body,” Castiel whispered, running one finger down the middle of Dean’s chest. Dean let out a sharp gasp as the fingers hit his stomach.

“Don’t do that!” He yelled.

“Are you...ticklish?” Castiel smirked, doing it again and hearing Dean gasp with another protesting shout as he struggled against the android.

“Stop it!”

“Oh, so you _are_ ticklish!” Castiel exclaimed, an overly happy look on his face. This would make it all the more fun. “I’ve never understood this human urge,”

“Don’t you dare!” Dean yelled, Castiel still tickling his stomach.

Castiel stopped. “Oh, my Dean, you are so lovely when you gasp and scream for mercy.” He went on with his merciless tickling running his fingers up and down Dean’s sides and stomach.

“I’ll…I’ll gasp and scream for any other reason you want, babe,” Dean yelped, arching and wiggling wildly. “Just _stop, please!”_

“Okay. Let’s just free you of a thick, unneeded material called jeans,” Castiel smirked, clearly enjoying his ‘Dean torture’. He deserved it after all, kissing him like that and then leaving him high and dry for the past few weeks since they had started their relationship.

He needed to be taught a lesson.

“Wha—no— No way are you…Cas!” Dean started, his face flushing an angry red. He didn’t understand why Cas was doing this, but whatever it was, it was _doing_ things to Dean. He really didn’t care for the tickling aspect, but this powerful, dominating Cas…well he was in for the long run here.

“You’re forgetting who’s in charge!” Castiel growled, finally angered and shaking the chains that bound Dean to the bed.

Dean’s mouth fell open, _son of a bitch,_ that shouldn’t make him feel so hot. He had never heard Castiel angry before, and, he hated to admit, an angry Castiel turned him on.

Castiel sighed and regained his fiery composure. “Alright, let’s get the jeans off.”

Dean, not wanting whatever had come over his lover to stop, complied. Castiel unbuckled both legs and held one down with his foot while unbuttoning Dean’s jeans. Dean just lay there, hoping and praying that Cas didn’t notice his raging cock, or the fact that he was shivering under his hld. His jeans were slipped off and dropped uselessly to the floor. Now he lay before Castiel in nothing but his black underwear.

“Please Dean, give me a yell, a sigh, a moan, anything! I don’t like it when you’re quiet, it makes me feel like I’m violating you,” Castiel waited for him to respond to make a noise, anything.

“Don’t stop,” Dean moaned in a whisper, his entire body flushed pink.

“Oh.” Castiel smirked, tugging at the hem of his underwear, in an attempt to take them off too.

Dean whimpered, wanting to move, wanting to touch Cas back, but knowing he was unable to do anything but let his lover do whatever he wanted to him.

Cas smirked at the high pitched groan from Dean. “Do you like it, my love? Would you like me to take these off?”

A blush rose to Dean’s cheeks as he solemnly spoke. “You suck at dirty talk, sweetheart.”

“You think so?” Castiel said, his lips descending on Dean’s own.

Dean struggled against Castiel’s mouth feeling his lips burn at the heat of them. He wasn’t going to let Cas get what he wanted so easily. He had to have done something to him to get him here, and Dean was _not_ going to take this lying down. He tried turning his head in all directions to break his lovers hold, chuckling when Castiel growled.

“Stop moving, Dean, otherwise I won’t do what I’ve wanted to do to you since I first saw you,” Castiel growled playfully, slowly biting down on Dean’s lower lip, making his lover moan. He took advantage of his prisoner’s open mouth and stuck his tongue inside. Dean groaned and battled Castiel’s tongue with his own.

Castiel pulled away smiling. “You taste so sweet, my love, I just want to eat you up,”

“I’m game, if you are,” Dean replied cheekily.

“Do you think you’ll be able to handle me?” Castiel asked encouragingly. “I’m not human, lest I remind you,”

Dean shook his head, knowing that Castiel could do so many things to him. But he also knew Castiel loved him, and he wouldn’t do anything to hurt him. _Son of a bitch,_ those teeth alone were making him so hard it hurt.

“Ohhh,” A shudder ran through his body as the teasing lips tasted his mouth once again, causing him to make another sound of pleasure. His skin felt as if it was burning, each lick and suck from that wicked mouth making the flames burn faster, move higher.

He moaned as he felt the touches; the pressure on his hips, something warm and soft and hard at the same time pressing into him, grinding against his cock in the way that brought stars bursting behind his eyes. _Fuck, thank you Chuck…_

Castiel’s fingertips lightly ghosted over the skin of his bare caving stomach.

Dean parted his lips as if to speak, but he lost his voice in his throat. Castiel’s moist lips against his neck made him moan loud, that wondrous tongue searing his throat, he tilted his head, neck arching for more attention. _More!_

Castiel seemed to take pity in Dean’s silent pleas, the teasing lips trailing lower, licking over his collarbone on their way down to his chest. His tongue ran over his navel but he didn’t go any further. Dean moaned in frustration. He instead nuzzled his navel lightly before moving lower, lower still. Dean didn’t realize that he was holding his breath until Cas’s hands brushed over his hips and then down his thighs.

“C-Cas,” Dean moaned, his head still fuzzy from the heated onslaught.

Castiel’s head tilted upwards and gorgeous blue met beautiful green as Cas moved back up the length of him, bringing his face inches from Dean’s, eyes dark with need.

“W-why’d…” He tried to speak, sucking in a deep breath he tried again. “Why’d you stop?”

“I find I want to see your face when I take you apart,” Castiel explained, leaning down over Dean, his eyes seedy with need. “I want you, Dean. I want only you.”

Dean shook his head, averting his eyes from him as a deeper red rushed to his face. His lips were swollen red with his kisses as he pouted.

“I want only you too, Cas.” He whispered lightly, embarrassed at the utter truth in his words.

Castiel gave him that gummy smile, the one that made his knees weak. Dean was expecting him to continue, but instead Castiel unfastening his arms and legs, getting up from his body and sitting next to him on the bed.

Castiel’s gaze roved over Dean, a short gasp escaping his lips. “Apologies, Dean.” He muttered, looking away from his lover.

Dean sat up, he cocked his head at the man, wondering just why he was apologising for. Dean had told him clearly that he had wanted this. Then his gaze turned to the mirror sitting in front of them, and a gasp left his lips. His neck and lips were covered with thick reddening marks, none of which he felt pain for.

Eyebrows raised he turned to the android, a laugh escaping his lips.

“Guess you’ve marked me then.” He chuckled, trying to hold back his laughter as Cas turned to him, amusement in his dark blue eyes.

His warm smile reached his eyes, brightening them. “I guess I have,”


End file.
